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Story: The Penalty Player

He runs his fingers through my hair, touching one of the few places that doesn’t cause pain. He lets out a feathery breath and stays silent for a few minutes. “You weren’t being a coward. You were guarding your heart.”

I push up on my hand and roll over carefully to face him. His eyes skim my hairline, and his fingers trace the outline of my face, before our eyes lock in place. Something powerfulswirls inside me that I can’t hold back, and the floodgates open.

“Hey. Things happen the way they’re supposed to. It wasn’t our time, pretty girl.”

Unable to control my tears, they feel just as hot as my skin as they cross the bridge of my nose and fall onto the crisp, cool sheet. The more I try to suck them back inside, the harder they fall. John continues to caress my face that was partially covered by my baseball cap, around my forehead and temples.

“Becca, if anyone was a coward, it was me. I should have told you in college that you were the only girl for me. But my pride wouldn’t allow me to do that, knowing you would crush me. I had so many bad things happening in my life, and I was just getting myself back. I couldn’t take the chance of making another mistake. Even though I knew I could never put you in that category. Stella… big mistake. But not you. Not in college. Not this summer when we were only talking. And not now.”

“John, we could have been happy for the past twelve years or however long it’s been.”

He leans into me, kissing me softly, cuddling my lips between his. “Maybe. But what I do know is we can be happy now and going forward. No more Dennis or Stella or your stupid motto, ‘I don’t date jocks,’ standing in the way.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

John

Her tears dry on my thumbs as she looks up at me with her blue eyes red rimmed from all the crying. My words make her smile, but a serious expression returns.

“Can we share something with each other that no one else knows?” she asks with her lids almost closed.

Placing my knuckle under her chin, I lift her face until her eyes slowly reach me. “I want to know everything about you.”

She plays with the hem of the new gown. “This must be reciprocal. If I share, you have to also.”

“I will. You’ve always seemed to have something just beyond my reach. Tell me.”

She catches her lips between her teeth, anxiously nibbling. I remember her doing the same thing in college anytime we would get close to doing something more than dry rubbing or kissing. It makes me wonder if this is about college or about Dennis. He’s such a loser, giving up a woman like Becca. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad they’re divorced. It’s just that giving her up is beyond my comprehension.

Her eyes shut, and she releases a heavy sigh. “When I was a freshman in college, before Corbin got there, I was on my own. For the first time, I didn’t have nine other siblings and parentswho counted on me. It was the freedom I never had, and I had no idea of the consequences.”

“That’s normal, Bex. Most students don’t have that many siblings, but it’s how we grow up,” I say to comfort her and hope she doesn’t clam up.

As she clears her throat, she adjusts her knee, pointing toward me in a defensive stance. It’s not lost on me that she puts more distance between us. So, whatever she’s going to say will hurt me. Or at least she thinks it will.

“I was cheering and since I was the top girl soaring and flipping in the air, the focus was always on me. Some of my older teammates were jealous. At parties, they would leave me. It was bad.”

“I hate catty girls.”

With a slight nod, she continues, “We would go to the Home Run House or to the hockey plex for parties. Many of the guy cheerleaders are gay, so they hung out with me until they hooked up with someone.”

“Are you telling me that one of them hooked up with one of my teammates?”

“I’m not saying they didn’t, but that’s not the point.” She pauses, sucking in a breath. A brand-new tear wells up in her lid. “Logan was a freshman too.”

My brows pinch in the center. “Logan. This is about Logan? I know you’re close but…”

“No, Logan and I have always been friends. But it was the first game he came off the bench. It was so exciting. He threw for three touchdowns, and we beat a top LSU team. I’m not like guys who can remember scores, but the campus was hopping, and the party was at the hockey plex. Logan didn’t have the house yet.”

“Okay,” I draw it out, wondering what this has to do with some big secret.

She wipes the tear that finally falls. “Back then, Logan was quite the playboy with his boyish charm, and everyone knew hewas the future of the football team. Anyway, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to sit on his lap. This was before I really knew him.”

Fuck. Logan has been where I’ve been.

“And…” Her fingers trail down my bicep, which is also burnt, but nothing like hers.

“One of the cheerleaders hit my blue Solo cup, and the beer splashed all over me. I sprang to my feet, and one of the hockey players followed me. I ran out onto the porch of what turned out to be the same plex as Flynn eventually moved into. He sat on the step beside me and said, ‘She’s a bitch. Don’t let her get to you,’ and then he hands me a new cup. ‘Do you like fruit punch?’ I nodded, loving sweets. ‘This is rum punch, or I can get you a virgin one if you want. We save some in the fridge in case we need to make a new batch.’”